Walking Shadows
by CrlkSeasons
Summary: "Life's but a walking shadow ..." (William Shakespeare) Some lives are briefer than others.


This story was written for VAMB's Secret Summer exchange. Cerulean Phoenix 7 requested a Janeway/Paris story, set during an intensely dramatic episode, preferably angsty, with some thought-provoking dialogue. I did my very best to satisfy all of the requirements.

The action takes place during the episode, Deadlock, on board the second of the two Voyagers.

**Walking Shadows**

Voyager's weakened shields were no match for the Vidiians. In less than five minutes they'd brought them down and were slicing a hole through the hull on deck five.

"Mr. Tuvok, get a security team down there. Now!"

"Aye, Captain."

Kathryn Janeway waved Tuvok's relief aside so she could study the tactical data at the station just vacated by her Chief of Security.

She had no illusions about Voyager's chances. The situation had been dicey ever since the crew exited a plasma cloud to find that their ship had become locked in a dance of death with an out-of-phase duplicate. Linked as they were, they had no way to escape. Their weapons were still off-line. It was only a matter of time until the Vidiians outnumbered Voyager's defenders.

Kathryn didn't bring her crew all this way to become fodder for Vidiians. She'd destroy her ship before she'd let that happen.

"Commander!" Chakotay looked around at the sound of his name. Kathryn gestured for him to join her so they could confer somewhat privately.

Below, on deck five, the Vidiians operated with chillingly efficiency. They cut through the hull with same surgical precision that they used to extract organs from selected 'donors'. The edges around the breach were smooth enough to have been pre-cut by the ship's builders.

The Vidiians deployed a tactical team to contain the ship's defense forces on the upper decks while their harvesting teams concentrated on the wealth of resources available on the lower decks. It was no accident that they'd selected a point of entry that isolated Voyager's command center from the main body of the ship.

Mordu, the first harvest team leader, was a seasoned honatta. Although his own face was a grotesque patchwork of mismatched pieces of skin, his tireless efforts provided his family with priority access to the best organs and the finest skin grafts. They were more fortunate than most, all except his youngest daughter, Derla. She had contracted a virulent strain of the Phage. She was only nine summer-moons old. Yet they were losing her so quickly. It was a constant struggle to keep pace with her failing organs.

Mordu's scans picked up a cluster of life signs two decks below. He led his team of harvesters in through the gap. They had to move quickly. There were more than twenty teams ready to follow them through. The faster his team moved, the more organs they could tag. The more organs they tagged, the greater his chances of staking claim to a compatible match for his daughter.

In contrast to the burst of activity on deck five, Voyager's bridge was quiet. There was little to occupy Tom Paris at the helm. He sat at his post and waited, ready to move the ship if the opportunity arose. From his station, he could hear bits of the Commander and the Captain's discussion. They were arguing in whispers.

Tom tried very hard not to eavesdrop. Ever since Chakotay discovered the truth behind his acts of insubordination, Tom had been extra careful to adhere to protocol. He was minding his 'P's','Q's', and all the other letters in the alphabet too.

The whispering stopped. Whatever the Captain and Commander had been discussing, they were finished now.

"Commander, you have the bridge." The Captain projected her voice so that everyone on the bridge could pick up on the hand-over to her First Officer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw the Captain exit the bridge and enter her ready room. With Vidiians boarding the ship, it was weird for her to leave the bridge. Maybe she was hatching some kind of plan.

"Mr. Paris, the Captain wants to see you in her ready room." Chakotay's voice interrupted Tom's speculations.

Tom swiveled around to face the Commander. "Sir?" he asked. Tom hadn't seen the Captain one-on-one since his debriefing after his undercover assignment. Even then, Chakotay and Tuvok had been present for most of the meeting.

"You heard me, Mr. Paris." Chakotay directed his next order toward a station on one side of the bridge. "Ms. Hamilton, take over the helm."

Tom got out of the way and let his relief take over. Stuck or not, protocol said that you didn't leave the conn unmanned in an emergency.

With no more questions that would get answers, Tom stepped down from the bridge, signaled his presence and entered the Captain's ready room.

These days Kathryn Janeway was all business in her dealings with Tom. She had been so ever since the end of the Seska assignment – no coffee, no small talk. She was formal in public - sympathetic, but distant, in private. She did nothing to encourage him to think that there was anything left of the irregular, clandestine relationship that developed during his undercover assignment.

Tom grew up with an admiral for a father. He was not an idiot. There were certain Starfleet realities that no one had to spell out for him.

Kathryn Janeway used this fact to the ship's advantage when she needed to. What was important now, was that she knew that Tom would complete this assignment for her, no matter what the cost.

"Mr. Paris, I need you to create a diversion. Gather as many of the crew as you can and steer the Vidiian well away from the spatial rift on deck fifteen. Mr. Tuvok's security team has set up a perimeter around Sickbay and will protect the bridge."

Tom nodded. "To keep the Vidiians from getting to the other Voyager,' he guessed.

"Among other things," she confirmed.

"How long do you want me to keep up this diversion?"

"For as long as you can."

That simple statement told him everything that he needed to know.

"I see," he said.

Tom took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It gave him the moment he needed to wrap his brain around the rest of it. He understood that he was being asked to sacrifice himself, again. Only this time it was an order, not a request and there was no 'home safe' card, for anyone. All the work that he'd done to protect his friends would be for nothing. So, life wasn't fair. Surprise, surprise.

"Maybe, I'll get to play a game of pool with Harry when I'm done," he joked grimly. "I mean the other one," he added quickly, "the one from the other Voyager who's already gone." He didn't want her to think that he had any illusions about coming back.

"I couldn't say," she responded neutrally.

"I guess that's pretty lame," Tom winced.

She could offer him some comforting platitudes. She wouldn't do that. She couldn't lie to him. She owed him the truth.

"I'm a scientist. I believe in what I can see with my own eyes." She told him bluntly, honestly.

Tom frowned, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess I don't buy into promises either. Too many turn out to be empty, you know?" Tom sighed ruefully as another thought struck him. Now was a hell of a time to latch onto a personal insight. "I hate to admit it, but too much Starfleet in me too. I mean all those classes about tolerance and respect for other cultures' beliefs. You'd have to be an idiot to miss the added sub-text – 'However, we at Starfleet know better than to put much stock into such beliefs'."

Kathryn did smile then. Tom's imitation of Professor Hdikhod's lecture voice was biting and accurate - not that the professor ever uttered those particular words out loud.

Tom subconsciously straightened to a classic Starfleet at-attention posture. His jaw was set tightly. The rest of his face was composed.

"I'll do my best, Captain."

"I know you will, Mr. Paris."

There was one part of Kathryn's plan that was not on Tom's need-to-know list. Although she wouldn't give him empty promises. She could give him something. "We don't know if the Vidiians have boarded the other Voyager," she told him. "If there's any chance that they're clear, I'll send Mr. Kim and the baby across."

Tom relaxed, every so slightly. "Thank you for telling me." Then he locked eyes with hers. "Good-bye, Captain." He'd already said most of the important stuff back when he'd had to leave the ship.

She accepted his words without flinching.

"Good-bye, Mr. Paris, and good luck."

Tom didn't waste any time on the bridge. He circled around the upper decks in order to get clear access to the lower decks. He made only one stop along the way. In the mess hall he collected Lt. Rollins, Crewman Dalby, Neelix and several other crewmembers gathered there, and quickly set out his plan.

Tom's strategy was simple. Deploy as many of the crew as possible to attract the attention of the Vidiians. Then run. Run fast. Run anywhere except deck fifteen-section 29 alpha, Sickbay and points directly in between.

The tactics worked for a while. Voyager's corridors circled the decks providing endless possibilities for places to hide. Tom made use of the curving walls to protect his team while on the move. But there was no real escape. The same curves that shielded them from their pursuers made it harder for the Voyager defenders to hit their own targets. There was always the sound of footsteps behind them.

Tom lost crew along the way. He forced himself to shut out the piercing shrill of Vidiian weapons fire - and the ensuing screams. The smell of seared flesh was harder to ignore. Tom could feel the nausea building in his traitorous stomach. He clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard.

Tom sent his main group ahead with Rollins and fell back to pick up stragglers. They were getting short on numbers and needed help from everyone they had left. He wouldn't lose anyone that he didn't have to. Tom grabbed two crewmembers who'd fallen behind and pushed them ahead of him. He twisted as he ran in order to send covering fire back in the direction of the Vidiians. He ducked and dodged to avoid the return fire.

The blast that caught Tom in the back hurt him more than he expected it to. Vidiian designed their weapons to minimize damage to potentially valuable organs. They weren't concerned about the victim's discomfort. The searing pain raced up Tom's spine to his brain. The human brain was of little interest to the Vidiians.

Tom staggered under the mind destroying agony. His body crumpled and hit the floor. There was no time for profound thoughts, final regrets. He was dead before the Vidiian hunter turned him over to scan for salvageable organs.

"The pancreatic tissue will be especially useful." The young Vidiian completed his scan and entered his finder's code. "This is a promising harvesting, Mordu. We'll get enough material from this ship to fill the current back-log on Enis." Vorla watched his team leader clip his diagnostic recorder back onto his belt. "What is the cover story for this supply?"

Mordu grunted. "The usual, 'organ salvage after a vicious pirate attack'."

"People won't believe that one much longer." Vorla protested. "Facts don't support there being that many attacks this close to Enis."

"Facts are irrelevant, Vorla. When their own interests are at stake, people can make themselves believe anything. With the welfare of their loved ones involved, they'll jump through all sorts of implausible hoops to convince themselves of the righteousness of their truth."

Vorla frowned, troubled by this uncomfortable reality.

Mordu touched the back of his young team member's hand with the familiarity only allowed between very close friends. "Come, we have more work to do. I want to have enough time to call my wife to tell her that I've found a pancreas for Derla. "

Vorla clipped his own recorder to his belt. The two of them stepped over what had once been a living being and continued down the corridor to harvest more finds.

Kathryn sat on the bridge and watched her crew's life signs disappear from her monitor. She'd sent Chakotay below to get an update on the situation. He'd reported back that the Vidiians now had control of everything below deck five. The only good news was that the other Voyager was mercifully free of Vidiians.

Kathryn's screen gradually darkened, like the sky at night when stars go down. One after another, bright lights flickered, faded and were gone. Every one of those stars had a name. She knew each by the individual comm badge signal. She knew the moment that she lost Tuvok. She saw Neelix and Chell fall together. So many others followed them.

Another light went out. This one was Tom. The escape route he'd set up was holding, but she'd have to move fast.

It was time.

"Harry, you've got five minutes. Get the baby"

"But, Captain…"

Her voice was thick and heavy enough to crack the air. It slammed into Harry's ears with the force of a fist.

"Move it, Ensign. That's an order."

Harry tore himself away from his station and was gone.

"Computer, initiate self-destruct sequence," Kathryn spoke each segment of her authorization code calmly and clearly. Then she added, "Set at five minutes and mute voice warnings." There would be no advance warning for the Vidiians. She wasn't taking a chance on them using the time to shut down the destruct, or to transfer bodies and live prisoners to the Vidiian mother ship.

Voyager's Captain turned to her First Officer for any objections.

There were none.

"Enable!"

Voyager's command team took their seats together, one last time. Around them, the relief crew continued on with no outward sign that there was anything out of the ordinary. Tuvok and Tom might have been off on a routine break. The bridge was untouched by any sign of the disaster to come. There were no jagged beams, no smoking fires, nothing resembling the destruction on the other Voyager. Yet this was the ship that was going to die.

It wasn't only the Q who had a cruel sense of humor.

"Damn them for making these chairs so comfortable," Kathryn muttered to Chakotay. It was downright annoying when she'd already given her last order and had nothing to left to do but think.

Kathryn checked her monitor for Harry's signal. She found it on deck fifteen. Two life signs, he had the baby. They were almost at the rift. They were going to make it. She shared a smile with Chakotay, then settled back in the captain's chair that fit her so well.

She had done her duty as a Starfleet captain to the best of her ability. She had saved those she could.

After the ship self-destructed, it was possible that their atoms would be reintegrated with those of their counterparts on the other Voyager to continue the journey home. That sounded more metaphysical than scientific. The Delta Quadrant had taught her that there were some questions that eluded scientific answers. But she was still a scientist. It was more likely that their atoms would dissipate into virtual nothingness in the vastness of space.

Either way, _her_ Voyager would be gone.

The other Voyager would survive, though. In _that_ phase-shifted reality, Tom would get to play his game of pool with Harry.


End file.
